


Close to the Cellar

by diemarysues



Series: A King and her Burglar [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Bilbo, Female Thorin, Smut, this always happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo finds herself in Thorin's cell, and she'll not be able to get out until the next night.</p>
<p>Whatever shall they do in the meantime?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close to the Cellar

It had been a surprise to learn that the Mirkwood Elves lived in caverns. Perhaps should have known better; Menegroth and Nargothrond had been great Elven fortresses in their time, after all. Perhaps Oropher, father of Thranduil, had drawn from that when establishing his own kingdom.

 

Still, there was no denying that it was not a place that Bilbo enjoyed being in – perhaps because she rather unfairly kept comparing it to the only other Elf-dwelling she’d been to. And perhaps because of the oppressive darkness of the Mirkwood itself.

 

With all these bad experiences underground, it was a wonder that Bilbo would want to stay in Erebor after – if – they reclaimed it from the dragon. First with the Goblins, then that skulking creature she’d riddled with, and now Thranduil’s dungeons.

 

But now, even as she crept in the shadows, flitting invisibly from cell to cell, Bilbo felt that her determination to help return the Dwarves to their home was stronger than ever. She found every single Dwarf that had been captured by the Elves; they were happy to see her, and made sure to pass messages between each other through her. She always reassured them that she was looking for ways to get them out, despite the fact that a far more important thought loomed in all their minds.

 

Where was Thorin?

 

She almost didn’t hear the footfalls behind her; Bilbo flattened herself to the side to give way to a pale-haired Elf. She noted that he was carrying food. There were no other prisoners so low in the dungeons, not that Bilbo knew of – could it be…?

 

Before she knew what she was doing, Bilbo had followed the Elf and observed as he approached a heavy door. Her heart skipped a beat when he said, “Step back, Dwarf King. Your dinner is here.”

 

Swiftly on silent feet, Bilbo slipped through the open door and pressed herself to the wall. She watched as the Elf placed a tray on the ground, picking up an almost-identical one that lay beside it. When he’d closed the door and left, footsteps fading into the distance, Bilbo spoke.

 

“Thorin!”

 

The Dwarf’s head snapped up. She looked towards the door but didn’t move from her position in the far corner.

 

Bilbo hissed at her again.

 

This time Thorin surged to her feet and strode over to the door. Bilbo watched her tiptoe to look out of the barred opening. “Impossible,” Thorin muttered. “No one there.”

 

That was when Bilbo slipped off the ring and tapped the King on her shoulder.

 

She would treasure the look of sweet surprise on Thorin’s face for the rest of her days. Thorin’s eyes were wide and her mouth had dropped open as soon as she realised that she wasn’t hallucinating – Bilbo was barely able to gasp in a breath before Thorin slid strong arms around her and sealed their lips together.

 

They kissed furiously, desperately, clinging onto each other until Thorin finally – unwillingly – pulled away. She rested their foreheads together and quietly asked, “How are you here?”

 

Bilbo took a breath. It was time to reveal the secret. “Well, I –”

 

“Wait.” Thorin started pushing her towards the mattress. “Sit. Eat first.”

 

“I – this is yours, I couldn’t –”

 

“I have been given regular meals since I’ve arrived, as have the rest of the Company. You would’ve probably had to steal what you could, and I don’t think you’d’ve stolen much. Burglar.”

 

Bilbo looked away, cursing how shrewd Thorin was. “I’m not hungry.”

 

“Don’t be a fool,” Thorin snapped. “I’ve survived on less for longer than you’ve been alive. Just eat it.”

 

The Hobbit would have argued, but her stomach took the opportunity to remind her forcefully that Thorin was _right_ , and that she’d spent a good week on stolen bites of whatever had been within reach (which, when dealing with Elves, wasn’t much). She pointedly reached for the water first, though, ignoring Thorin’s rolled eyes.

 

She _was_ thirsty.

 

Eventually, though, after the plate had been cleared (and after Bilbo had bullied Thorin into sharing some with her), Bilbo started talking. She explained first about the creature she had come across in the bowels of the Misty Mountains – her near constant shuddering as the memories surfaced meant she was now ensconced in Thorin’s arms – and the ring she had gained. Then she told Thorin about what had happened to the rest of the Company; how they’d been taken by spiders and how they’d been captured by Elves after she’d managed to save them.

 

Thorin was heartened by news of her kin and kissed Bilbo’s cheek. “You are a wonder,” she said. “First you can move about unseen at will, and now I learn that you are a spider-killer. My brave burglar.”

 

“Please don’t.” Bilbo closed her eyes and felt Thorin gently grasp her chin. “I’m not – I don’t want to –”

 

“You saved their lives,” Thorin murmured. “Focus on that. Without you they would be dead.”

 

“For all the good it did them,” she snorted. “Caught by Thranduil.”

 

“Able to regain their strength from the poison. All in one place, so all we have to do is come up with a plan to escape.”

 

Thorin sounded so sure of herself that Bilbo’s chest ached a little. She hoped that Thorin would be the one coming up with that plan, because a week of wandering had yielded no answers to her.

 

Of course, she’d only really had one focus during that week.

 

Bilbo opened her eyes. “I… I thought you were lost to us. When we couldn’t find you.”

 

Thorin stayed silent.

 

“A-and, and then after everyone had been brought here and put in the dungeons, I kept looking but. But every empty cell I came across just leeched at the hope I had in my heart, and –”

 

The Dwarf’s thumb smoothed over Bilbo’s lips, effectively silencing her. “Hush. I’m here.”

 

“But I was so –”

 

“Ssh.” Thorin leaned down to kiss Bilbo with infinite care. Her lips moved gently and chastely against Bilbo’s as she held the Hobbit close, encouraging her down to lay upon the mattress.

 

Bilbo protested, only to be quietened by another kiss.

 

“The guard will check on me in the morning, but the door will only open tomorrow night. You may rest for now, my burglar.”

 

Protests appeared on her tongue – she wasn’t tired, she’d gotten enough sleep in the hallways honestly – but she found herself interrupted by a yawn. Thorin cupped her cheek, and from under heavy eyelids, Bilbo could just make out a faint smile.

 

“Sleep,” Thorin murmured, and Bilbo did.

 

* * *

 

She herself had thought that her Company had perished in the forest – learning that they were all accounted for was a weight off her chest. And as for the weight currently on her chest…

 

Having Bilbo with her made Thorin more grateful than she thought she could ever be. She gently twirled a stray curl of brown hair around her forefinger. Thorin had meant what she’d said. Bilbo Baggins was a wonder, and Thorin regretted every harsh word she’d ever directed towards the Hobbit. She’d been a fool.

 

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Bilbo grumbled.

 

“Apologies,” she said, hiding her smile in Bilbo’s braids. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Better than I have in awhile.” Small fingers carded gently through her beard, and Thorin closed her eyes at the sensation. “And you?”

 

“The same. I’m glad to have you here.” She didn’t need to look to know Bilbo was blushing.

 

“Anything’s an improvement, I’d imagine, after being alone in a cell.”

 

Thorin snorted. “The company is infinitely better.”

 

“Sweet talker.”

 

She snickered and would have replied – but instead she tightened her arms around Bilbo and hissed, “Put the ring on, _now_!”

 

It was gratifying that Bilbo followed her instructions without question – and it was a relief, because seconds after the Hobbit disappeared from sight (and that was bewildering), an Elf appeared in the little window set into the door.

 

“Are you ready to talk, O’ Dwarf?” The Elf sounded bored, as if she already knew what the answer would be. In this case, she did.

 

“No,” Thorin said shortly. “Go away.”

 

The guard snorted.

 

“That was close.”

 

“I meant to ask… why did you come in here? You could have talked to me from outside the door, same as the Elves.”

 

Bilbo reappeared, frowning hugely. “I wouldn’t have been able to see you.”

 

The King stared at her, unsure as to how to respond. Bilbo had made the admission easily, and spoke as if Thorin was stupid for not realising it sooner. Instead of feeling stupid, Thorin felt odd. Like her heart was trying to fight its way out of her chest. A curious sensation, and not necessarily one she wanted to explore further.

 

So instead, she bravely said, “Tell me about your Shire.”

 

Bilbo, despite her suspicious look, did tell Thorin about the Shire. She talked about Hobbits in general, their habits and likes and dislikes. She talked about her small army of a family – really, the fertility of Hobbits was astounding – and how she’d lived alone after losing her parents. In return, Thorin told her tales of Erebor and of Ered Luin, of eking out a living from blacksmithing in human settlements, trying to feed hungry mouths at home.

 

They even spoke, tentatively, of the future. Of the possibility of recovering Erebor (should they first escape this horrible place and defeat the worm) and of the possibility of returning it to its former glory.

 

Of the possibility of their living together.

 

When Thorin – rather idealistically – waxed lyrical about making Bilbo her consort, the Hobbit climbed atop her and kissed her. Hard.

 

“Bilbo –” Her protest was interrupted by another kiss. Thorin huffed and pushed a little at Bilbo’s shoulders, only to have her Halfling start trailing kisses along her jaw. “This isn’t wise. What if we forget ourselves and they discover you?”

 

Bilbo didn’t seem to be listening, engrossed as she was in exploring the length of Thorin’s neck. Thorin would’ve pushed her away sooner, except –

 

Well. Why should she?

 

She did though. Eventually.

 

Bilbo glared at her. “You realise I have to leave tonight, if we’re to have any chance of escaping?”

 

“And do you realise that if we continue, we’ll get carried away and won’t hear anyone approach?”

 

“Oh, for goodness sake!”

 

Thorin made a distressed noise as Bilbo disappeared from view. She had not meant to anger the Hobbit, only impress upon her the danger they were in. She reached out in the direction in which she’d last seen Bilbo, only to have her hands intercepted. Thorin had a brief second to wonder what was happening before determined lips caught hers.

 

Ah.

 

It was quite disconcerting to kiss someone she couldn’t see, so Thorin’s eyes slid shut almost immediately as their tongues curled against each other. She allowed Bilbo to manipulate her hands – an excellent choice when Bilbo placed them on her chest.

 

Her _bare_ chest.

 

Thorin pulled back. She stared at Bilbo – or in her general direction. “When did you remove your clothes?”

 

“I don’t see why you should complain,” came Bilbo’s disembodied voice.

 

Moving her thumbs experimentally, Thorin grinned at the Hobbit’s gasp. “I was just surprised.” She leaned forward to place her mouth against a smooth collarbone, sucking hard at Bilbo’s wordless urging. She palmed Bilbo’s breasts gently as she teased a bruise into her skin.

 

Bilbo clutched at Thorin, pulling her closer by grabbing fistfuls of her hair. From her mouth emerged the most delightful of sounds; half-gasps and whimpers and choked off moans, all noises Thorin would have triumphed to elicit. The fact remained that they were in the dungeons and, invisible Hobbit or no, they’d be found out should Bilbo continue.

 

_Best put that mouth to use_ , thought Thorin, ever practical.

 

It was Bilbo that drew Thorin’s slicked fingers away from her mouth and down between her legs, and Thorin was pleased (if a little surprised) that her underclothes were already out of the way. In fact, Bilbo seemed to be all surprises this day, purposely and forcefully grinding down against the King’s hand.

 

Thorin very carefully put her other hand over Bilbo’s mouth, and her teeth against Bilbo’s neck.

 

Bilbo’s lips moved ceaselessly, whispering against Thorin’s palm, an almost ticklish sensation. When her body seized and her back arched, Thorin slid her hand to grasp Bilbo’s neck, inclining upwards to swallow her long, reedy whine.

 

“Beautiful Hobbit of mine,” Thorin breathed, moving her fingers against the motion of Bilbo’s hips. “Lovely, lovely creature.” More sweet nothings dropped from her lips (much to Thorin’s own astonishment), until Bilbo abruptly shoved her flat on her back.

 

Clever, invisible fingers picked at the lacings on her breeches. Thorin’s fists clenched at her sides when Bilbo’s tongue slid over the skin of her hip. She had to stuff the blanket between her teeth as Bilbo took her apart exquisitely slowly. And, oh, it was _exquisite_ –

 

She drew Bilbo close when they were done, nuzzling her soft and still-bare shoulder. “You will be the death of me.”

 

“Better me than this place.” Her fingers curled over Thorin’s belt.

 

“You will get us out,” Thorin whispered confidently, tangling their legs together. “I know you will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed because I'm a lazy sod. And I really have no explanation for this, I'm a horrible person.


End file.
